Jaye Wells's Blog, page 18

Quick post today.

I recently read a post by the fabulous Jordan Dane about how she puts a book together. Her process was fairly similar to mine and I posted a link to it on twitter. Jordan, in turn, asked me to post a comment about how I do it. So I did. Follow the link to read her process and a down and dirty version of my own process.

Instead of calling myself a plotter or a pantser (seat of the pants writer), I call myself a kaleidoscoper. I'm currently working on a workshop presentation on this process so I won't rehash it all here. So go read that post. If you have any questions or would like more details, let me know in comments and I'll get into more detail. Here's the link to Jordan's post and my comment.

Happy Monday! Some of you may know that I've been attending a citizen's police academy in my city for the last few weeks. The program is very cool because each week we get to meet officers from every department and learn about the inner workings. Surprisingly, I am the only writer in the class. Everyone else in the class of about fifty are average people who want to get more involved in the community and maybe were just curious about police work. It's been so fun and we still have several weeks left.

As you can imagine, I'm learning lots of awesome things that I will eventually use in novels. But I'm also learning stuff about myself. For example, I never knew I was an adrenaline junky. Until Saturday.

Because Saturday was DRIVE DAY. That's right, friends, I spent my Saturday morning driving cops cars at high speeds through a tough course. We each got three qualifying runs through the course, hoping to beat the time of 52 seconds.

Anyway, I thought I'd share the video of my third run through the course with you. Thanks to Mr. Jaye for filming it.

I love writing urban fantasy. There aren't many rules. Because it's a multigenre, there are no prescribed formulas. Conventions, sure. But UF is as likely to flaunt conventions as follow them. Also, because the monsters we write about are powerful metaphors, there are many opportunities for twisting expectations and skewing perspectives. All this allows an author incredible latitude when it comes to using humor, satire and parody.

"That's the great test, if you're going to be a great comic writer, not a humorist, you've got to take it into the throat of grief. Can you make laughter and seriousness so close that they are the same thing? There's nothing more wonderful than when the comedy's got horror in it, got blood in it. And the seriousness is at all times aware of its own preposterousness. What's it for, this seriousness? Everything is loss, is nothing, in the end." -Howard Jacobson

This quote hangs over my computer monitor. Not because I aspire to be a "great comic writer" but because I aspire to be an honest writer. One who shares the truth as I know it. And the truth is messy. I might write books about vampires and demons, but they're really stories about people. Or, perhaps more succinctly, they're about broken people.

We're all broken, right? Because perfection doesn't exist. Because we don't live in a world of perpetual abundance. Because we're humans and not the gods we've created. We're broken and we're ridiculous and we've all got an expiration date. And in these truths are the seeds of all good humor.

Humor allows us to watch tragedy through a Plexiglas shield and provide color commentary without feeling threatened. It dilutes horrors and deflects tears. But to be true, humor must also be relentless. Fear has no place here. You can't worry that your mom might read your work and be ashamed. You can't worry that the PTA might read it and ban you from the bake sale. You can't worry that nice girls don't talk about those things. That little twinge in your gut? It's there to tell you to keep going.

Telling stories isn't always comfortable. While we're writing about monsters, we're really writing about ourselves. The things you fear, the things that make you angry, the things you love–ultimately they're all fodder for comedy. Because life is ridiculous and sad and wonderful. And because if we didn't laugh, we'd cry. Or worse, we wouldn't care at all.

Hi! I'm Jaye Wells. I like a little sarcasm with my blood. I like making fun of the things that scare me. And there's nothing I love better than some seriously twisted humor.

But while I aspire to the love child of threesome between Janet Evanovich, Chuck Palahniuk and Christopher Moore, I get that not everyone laughs at the same things I do. Whether you like your humor subtle, sarcastic or slapstick, there's an author out there writing it. So I thought I'd cover one of my favorite kinds of humor today: Snark.

First, can we agree the term is overused? These days, pretty much anything anyone says that's the least bit sarcastic is labeled snark. But, in my opinion, true snark is an art form. In fact, I prefer the term "sardonica" but so far no one else is biting on that term. So snark it is. Now, what the heck is it?

At its best, snark is witty cynicism with a heavy dose of sarcasm. At its worst, snark comes off as snotty and, well, let's face it, douche-y. Especially when wielded by blog trolls, obnoxious radio personalities and pseudo-intellectuals.

It's also often confused for other common comedic devices: repartee, satire, gallows humor, farce, irony, parody. The confusion often comes from the fact that snark blends so well with these other devices and is even combined with them to great effect by skilled comedic writers. But in my opinion, snark is really just a preemptive offensive defense.

All humor is rooted in pain.–Richard Pryor

Bear with me while I get a little deep for a moment. Often the most effective wielders of snark are highly intelligent people who spent at least part of their childhoods being punched by metaphorical or literal bullies. In other words, they developed verbal weapons where they did not have physical ones. In addition, these same people probably spent a large part of their teen years observing their peers to try and figure out why everyone else seemed to fit in while they did not. Thus, a snarkist was born: a keen observer of human nature that wields words like weapons to cut down opponents before they themselves can be cut down.

I should also point out that these same breeding grounds can also give birth to writers and serial killers, but that's another blog post altogether.

In fiction, snark is often used by characters who have built thick walls around themselves. That's probably why so many urban fantasy heroines (and Sabina Kane is no exception) wield both snark and literal weapons. The guns kill enemies and the words keep potential allies at bay, but both types of weapons are meant to disguise vulnerabilities.

But given snark's somewhat regrettable reasons for existing, why do we find it so freaking funny? Again, this is only my opinion, but I think we all have an inner snarkist. It's just that snarky characters in books actually say what they're thinking. They flaunt the polite rules of society that demand that if we don't have anything nice to say, we don't say it at all. And how many of us haven't wanted to speak our minds more often? To be able to say just the right cut down at the exact right moment (instead of thinking of it two hours later when you're halfway into a gallon of Chunky Monkey).

As an author, writing snark can be incredibly cathartic. First of all, I get to say things in print I might never say in public. If you read my twitter feed it might surprise you to know I actually do censor myself. But Giguhl, the hairless cat/Mischief demon from my Sabina Kane series, says all sorts of things I'd be embarrassed to say in polite company. Second, it's really fun to see how a character's use of snark changes as they grow through a series. As a character becomes more open to relationships with other characters, their humor tends to get less caustic and defensive and more driven by camaraderie and good-natured ribbing.

In the end, good snark is hard to define. It's kind of like pornography–we know it when we see it.

So what do you think? Do you agree with my definition of snark? Who do you think uses it well in fiction?

Note: Most of this entry was reposted from a series of blogs I did for Babel Clash, Border's now-defunct science fiction and fantasy blog.

First of all, yes, I know it's Friday. But since I got caught up yesterday and couldn't post my Craft Thursday entry I decided I'd slip one in today.

Today I'd like to discuss point of view. I'm not talking about first (I) vs. second (you) vs. third (he/she/it). Instead, I want to address the importance of getting into your character's skin so you can see their world through their eyes. Sounds creepy, doesn't it?

Anyway, when I was 22, during the summer following my college graduation, I spent a month taking a class on Native American Mythology in Taos, New Mexico. I spent my days learning about Hopi creation myths and Jungian symbolism followed by helping the local church re-adobe their walls before heading to Pizanos, the local pizza joint for a few beers and delicious pie.

My best friend was there, too. She was a studio art major, so her days were spent just like mine, except in the mornings while I was geeking out over Jung, she was painting in the campus's studio. We stayed in the same casita and spent a lot of time on the patio in the evenings chain smoking and waxing poetic about the vast mesas of potential laid out before us. It was a heady time.

One day, we signed up for an early morning hike through a local canyon. Above the trees and trails, high cliffs dotted with old Anasazi caves rose like ancient skyscrapers. When we arrived, the sun was just above the horizon and its light bathed the cliff walls. Our group paused to admire the show before starting our hike.

You know those moments of clarity? The ones when you're fully invested in the instant of time you're in? When you feel as though the secrets of the universe are within your reach?

As I looked at those high, red cliffs with the pink and pale yellow light dancing across its planes, I brushed up against infinity. I turned to my friend and said, "Everyone sees something different."

She frowned at me. "What?"

"You're an artist, so you see the interplay of light and shadow. The range of hues and the composition. Right?"

She nodded.

"But an anthropologist or historian will see something different. They see those cliffs through a lens of history. They won't notice the light and shadow, but they'll see things an artist would miss. A myth and folklore geek will love the symbols on the cave walls and the significance of the caves themselves as symbolic wombs. A geologist will see the rock formations and appreciate how rain and wind created something so majestic. Isn't that fascinating?"

Being my friend, she wasn't unused to me making such pronouncements back then–I was young and often very impressed with my naive wisdom. She looked at me, and without blinking said, "You're an art history major with a history minor whose studied anthropology and loves myths. What do you see?"

I smiled. "I see all of it."

It took me eight more years before I started to seriously write fiction, but now that I've been a writer for a while, I realize how important that moment was in my development. It was the first time I understood point of view.

As writers, it's our job to see the world through the eyes of our characters. Often these characters will have experiences and knowledge we lack. Everyone sees colors and hears sounds and tastes foods and feels things as individuals. So when we write, we must constantly be aware that our characters are not us because they have unique experiences and biases and talents and challenges. Acknowledging this is the first step toward writing good characters.

The second step is learning how to do what I call "method writing." You've probably heard of method acting. The Method, as it's often called by Hollywood types, involves immersing oneself into the feelings and thoughts of the character. Often this is achieved by the actor recalling sensations or emotions from their own life.

It's the same with writing. If I'm writing a scene where my character is angry, I recall a time when I was angry and bring those visceral memories to the page. I'll amplify or reduce the severity of those sensation depending on the needs of the scene. But I'll also adjust them based on the character I'm writing.

It's more complicated than that, of course, because of what we've already covered. An assassin will experience grief differently from a child. I've been a child, so I can bring my experiences there into play. But I've never been an assassin. So I have to put myself in an assassin's shoes. This is where imagination and the ability to extrapolate are your friends.

I can imagine, for example, that an assassin has to be somewhat hardened against emotions. Death is not a stranger to be feared. In that case, I'd write the emotions as the opposite of the ones I've experienced during my own meetings with Thanatos. In other words, I always start with how I'd react and adjust those known sensations to fit what I think my character would experience.

I hope that makes sense. It's what works for me. It's not an easy way to work by any means. I laugh and cry my way through every book I write and often walk away from sessions an emotional wreck. Also, lord help anyone who interrupts me when I'm writing a fight scene.

No matter how you manage to write convincing characters, the bottom line is that you have to be able to write from many perspectives. Sometimes your characters will do things that you would never do. Think dangerous thoughts and say disturbing things and perpetrate acts that disgust you.

You are not your characters. Your characters are not you. But during the space of time that you are writing them, you must learn to get inside their heads and hearts. You have to understand that an artist will see the waltz of light and shadow across cave openings, but a serial killer wants to crawl into those rocky wombs and paint the walls with tourists's blood.

Happy Friday! This weekend I'll be at ConDFW . My panel and reading schedule for the con is below. Hope to see you there!

SATURDAY

Panel Room 2 – Manchester 2pm – The Fight of the Century: Urban Fantasy vs. Paranormal Romance! Panelists: Nina Romberg, Jaye Wells, Lee Martindale (M), Shanna Swendson, Rachel Caine, Michael Ashleigh Finn Yes, this is the fight you've all been looking forward to – where is the line between Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance?  Which side gets the vampires of darkness, and which side gets the hot vampires?  We put together these two combustible forces and see what happens!  Bring your own popcorn.

Panel Room 1 – Warwick 3pm – Anatomy of a Red Shirt, or How to Kill Secondary Characters Realistically Panelists: K.M. Tolan, Gabrielle Faust, David Gray (M), A.P. Stephens, Jaye Wells Okay, in the typical horror movie you see main (sort of) characters killed off one by one.  However, the difference between a good horror movie and a bad one usually lies in whether the audience cares about the characters that are being killed off.  Our panelists discuss how to create a believable "Red Shirt" without losing credibility, or someone's lunch.

Readings: 4 pm – Jaye Wells, Rhonda Eudaly, Dusty Rainbolt

SUNDAY

Panel Room 4 – Churchill 11am – Escape from the Slush PilePanelists: Lou Antonelli (M), Chris Donahue, Michael Ashleigh Finn, Kevin Hosey, Jaye Wells We bring back this popular panel from last year to tantalize people with mistakes and errors you should try not to do.  Beware: someday you may end up here if you do not learn from your mistakes…  Come and learn from our editors on what to avoid so you don't end up on the slush pile.

Last week, I spoke via Skype to an English class at Seton Hill University about my books and writing. Someone asked about my best advice for aspiring writers. After my first answer, which was "Well, you have to actually write," I talked about the importance of collecting experiences. It's possible I advised these impressionable young minds that they should hang out with biker gangs and get themselves arrested. I was, of course, speaking metaphorically.*

But not really.

A lot of people think that all you need to be a writer is a writing instrument (pen, laptop, whatever)  and a degree in English. Only one of those is true.

You ask me, I'll tell you writers need both of the following: An amazing imagination and lots of life experience. I told those kids that if they're choosing their degrees my advise would be to pick something other than English. Want to write mysteries? Study law or criminology. Want to write excellent character driven fiction? Study psychology. See what I mean?

However, I don't really think a degree of any sort is necessary. The school of life can teach you everything you need. By embracing adventure, you can't help but improve your fiction.

As writers, it's our job to provide readers with a virtual experience. We mine our own experiences and visceral memories to inform the reactions of our characters. Sometimes we simply take a feeling we had and turn up the volume. Other times we share something we did verbatim and call it fiction. Regardless, our memories, experiences and knowledge constantly inform our stories.

I don't have regular hobbies. Long before I realized I was a writer, I pursued a veritable cornucopia of hobbies. Interior decorating (fail!), cross stitch (fail!), embroidery (fail!), sewing (epic fail!), etc, etc, etc (fail, fail, fail). What I eventually realized is that my hobby was taking classes and learning new things. Now that I'm a writer, I indulge this interest in more interesting ways.

In service of my fiction I have shot guns, walked through graveyards, studied esoteric arts, attended roller derby matches, taken language classes, studied self defense and kick boxing, and traveled all over. I tell people it's all for the writing, but in reality the writing just gives me an excuse to pursue my fancies. The work feeds my life and the life feeds the work.

Right now I'm enrolled in a Citizen's Police Academy. For thirteen weeks, I will learn how cops do their jobs. This isn't a sit-in-a-classroom thing. We get behind-the-scenes tours of  facilities, to drive cop cars through a tactical course, to do a ride-along, to meet K9 units and narcotics squads,etc. The best part? This is my job.

I've often said that writers are both participants and observers in life. I have a colleague who told a story of being loaded into ambulances after car accident and even as she was scared and in pain, the writer part of her brain was taking note of the layout of the ambulance and the traits of the EMTs for later use. For a more mundane example, I can't tell you how many times I've been speaking to a group of readings while simultaneously filing away interesting body language tells or physical traits into my mental database. Writers are supposed to be crazy, so use that an an excuse to try things you never would have tried before.

I guess my point today is that life is the best writing teacher. Get out into the world. Open your arms and embrace every opportunity (within reason–don't break the law or hurt anyone, please). Use the writing as your excuse if you want, but you might just find the adventures you undertook to improve your stories also improve your own personal story.

What's the craziest class or experience you've pursued for a story?

*And by metaphorically, I of course mean, I'm covering my ass in case any parents come after me.

So you want to write books. You probably already know you should read books. Lots and lots of books. But did you also know that one of the best things you can do for your novels is to study screenwriting?

But, Jaye, I watch lots of TV and I have a huge Netflix queue.

Hush, now. At some point, if you're going to get serious as a storyteller than you must study storytelling mediums with a deliberate eye.  You must become a student of structure and pacing and character construction and conflict and theme. In order to create your own stories you have to understand how stories work. Yes, you have some inherent understanding since you've been exposed to stories since birth. But to truly understand, you have to learn how the sausage is made.

Warning: This will ruin your ability to just relax and enjoy most stories.

My husband hates watching movies with me. "Gawd damn it, haven't they ever heard of internal conflict?" "Watch this, it's the midpoint break, so there's going to be a shocking revelation." It's so bad that I've trained him to pick apart every book, show and movie he experiences. It's quite common now for him to slam a book closed and say, "Give me a break, the character development was completely inadequate and don't get me started on the cliched metaphor usage."

I've created a monster. But now he's also a great sounding board when I'm writing a book.

Anyway, here's the thing: Novels are awesome. They're beautiful and perfect storytelling vehicles. But they're big and complex and there are so…many…words. I jest, of course. The complexity of the novel is part of its charm. But if you want a down and dirty understanding of plot structure and the internal mechanics of good story telling, screenplays are a great place to start.

Why? Well, first of all a screenwriter working on a feature-length project has maybe 120ish pages. A writer on an hour-long drama has 60ish pages. That's not a lot of room in which to tell a complete and complex story. You want to learn how to write well? Force yourself to write tighter, like a screenwriter.

Novelists have this wonderful wiggle room. We  have time and space to present our story elements. Short stories, screen plays, any shorter form of fiction will help your novels immensely. It forces you to make sure every word counts, that your visuals have ultimate impact (yes, there are visual elements in novels, too), and most of all, they force you to cut the bullshit and get the heart of the story.

Am I overselling? Maybe. But I can tell you that my own studies in the screen trade have helped my novels a ton.

So where do you start?

My three go-to big screen guys for story structure are Robert McKee, Chris Vogler, and Michael Hague. Robert McKee was immortalized as the gruff guru of screenwriting in the brilliant film ADAPTATION (from the warped genius of Charlie Kauffman). Vogler mines the inner world of character arcs using Joseph Campbell's monomyth as a vehicle. Hague  is a consultant on a ton of films because he's a wizard at story structure. One of my favorite lectures is by both Vogler and Hague together called, "The Two Hero's Journeys," which you can purchase here.

Blake Snyder's SAVE THE CAT is also a great down and dirty guide to structure. I use his tricks in my books all the time, especially "pope in the pool." Read it and you'll see what I'm talking about.

Also, supernatural thriller novelist Alexandra Sokoloff has a fantastic book called SCREENWRITING TRICKS FOR AUTHORS.

In addition, I subscribe to a fantastic blog called Go Into The Story, which offers tons of advice on general storytelling, as well as screen-specific advice and seminars. Visit Go Into The Story

Plus, there are tons of sites out there where you can read produced scripts. They're like reading plays, and it's really fun to see how writers write the stories, which will later get translated visually by other people.

Lastly, you should watch widely. Network TV, cable TV (some of the best writing anywhere right now), mainstream features, independent productions. Stretch outside your typical genres because you never know when you're going to see something cool you can use in your own stories.

Look, I'm not trying to convince you to abandon novels. I think it's healthy for every writer to dabble in other mediums, but scattering your energy too much can also ensure nothing ever gets done. Each medium has it's own challenges and benefits, but they also each offer their own lessons about how to tell a story that you can either borrow or outright steal for your novels. Read, watch, but most of all, pay attention.

Anyone else have any great screen writing secrets for novelists?

Happy writing!

Welcome back to Craft Thursday, campers. I spend a lot of these posts going all militant-Oprah-y on your asses,so today I thought I'd take the discussion back to actual writing craft.

That's right–I'm going to share some of my tricks.

Okay, now, simmer down. I know you're excited. I mean who doesn't love writing tricks? But before I share them, I need to lay some caveats on you. First, these work for me. You may disagree with them. That's cool but remember that no piece of writing advice applies to every writer. Second, these are not earth-shattering nuggets from the gods that will suddenly transform your ugly duckling of a manuscript into a magical swan. These tips apply to helping your word craft–they won't fix gaping holes in your story or weak character development.

With all that understood between us, behold–Jaye's Top Five Writing Tricks

5. Be a rebel. That's right. I'm kicking this off by telling you to ignore every grammar rule Mrs. Gillespie taught you in sophomore English.  Besides the fact she undoubtedly taught you some horrible habits (see no. 1 below), she also had a grammar stick up her pooper.

Fiction ain't about following rules, son. (The screech you just heard was Mrs. Gillespie spinning her grammar grave) And God help your soul if you ever write one of those "introductory statement, three supporting sentence, summary statement essay formats" in a novel. GOD HELP YOU!

Don't misunderstand. I'm not telling you you shouldn't KNOW your grammar rules. Instead, the deliberate flouting* of grammar rules can be an effective way to add a little flair to your sentences.

For example, one of my favorite stylistic choices is to begin sentences with conjunctions. I am well aware this makes the grammar mavens cringe. But it's an excellent way to bring attention to a sentence or idea. And it's fun.

Don't get me started on proper grammar in dialogue, either. If your characters don't recklessly mangle grammar like real people then you're going straight to writer hell, where Mrs. Gillespie (in a red latex devil suit) will force you to write essays like, "What I Did for Summer Vacation" for eternity.

*shudder*

But you can not–repeat CAN NOT–be willfully ignorant of grammar and then proclaim your mistakes part of your avante garde style. You have to know the rules to know how to break them for effect. If you need to learn proper grammar, I'd suggest you start with Strunk & White.

4. Adverbs are lazy. Yes, I know. This is repeated so often I considered not repeating it here. Also, some of you are pulling out my novels to look for any instances of lazy adverb usage so you can call me a hypocrite. I'll save you some time–I use adverbs all the time. Sometimes they're unavoidable.

And yes, plenty of successful authors use them prolifically (see what I did there?). For example, I've been reading the Harry Potter series to my son and J.K. Rowling uses them in almost every damned dialogue tag and sentence. They certainly didn't harm her career.

But I would submit to you that your writing would certainly benefit from less adverbs. You're a writer–use your imagination to come up with a way to describe something in a fresh way. Here's a sample from SILVER-TONGUED DEVIL.

After  a few tense moments, we both spoke at once. Our words tangled in the air like alphabet confetti. Self-conscious laughter followed. "You first, " I said.

If I were an adverb apologist, I would have written that passage like this:

Our words stumbled awkwardly over each other . We both laughed self-consciously. "You first," I said ruefully.

Anyone who chose the second passage as their favorite needs to go sit in the corner. Go on.

3. Tension requires brevity. Say you have a big scene. Huge fight. Your protagonist is cornered. Do you really think that writing this scene in long, flowery sentences–the kind filled with asides and tangential phrases enclosed in em-dashes or set off by the dreaded semi-colon–are going to convey the sense of urgency you're hoping to impart to your reader?

Of course not. You want to keep people interested. You want to keep the action fast. Keep your sentences short. Period.

2. Backload. This is a trick I learned from Margie Lawson (one of many–seriously, take her deep editing course). Backloading is simply a technique wherein you save your power word for the end of a sentence.

Instead of:

She raised the gun and cocked a hip.

It's:

She cocked a hip and raised the gun.

Bam!

Why does this work? Because humans tend to remember the last word of a sentence. Therefore, if you want to power up your sentences, you'll save the strongest word for last. The cool thing is that most people won't be able to tell why your writing is suddenly reading like you've injected your sentences with steroids. But you'll know and you'll smile.

1. Watch your Thats. This is another very basic technique that nets huge results. The first time a critique partner pointed out my that problem, I had no idea how much I used the word. When I did a search of the document she was critiquing, I found that I'd used it something like 2,000 times in a 400-page novel.

Some of you might be asking, well, so what? I use "that" all the time.

Stop it. Stop it right now.

Quick lesson: That is used in restrictive clauses. Restrictive clauses are parts of a sentence that restrict the meaning of another part of the sentence. For example, "Eyes that are blue are pretty." If you took out the that, the meaning of the sentence would change. To wit: "Eyes are beautiful." The speaker intended to say only blue eyes are beautiful, not all eyes.

Two things. First, if you read "Eyes that are blue are beautiful," and didn't hear fingernails scrapping down your mental blackboard you have a problem. It should read, "Blue eyes are beautiful."

In other words, the restrictive clause isn't need at all because blue is a perfectly awesome on it's own as an adjective without mucking the sentence up with the unneccessary restrictive clause.

Make sense?

Also, some of you probably read this sentence above, "The speaker intended to say only blue eyes are beautiful, not all eyes," and wondered why I didn't write it this way, " The speaker intended to say that only blue eyes are beautiful, not all eyes."

The that isn't needed. Trust me, it's not. The sentence meaning doesn't change by removing the that. And that is the rule of thumb–if removing the that changes your meaning, leave it. If not, you must destroy it mercilessly, if you'll forgive the adverb.

For some reason, a lot of people use that when they shouldn't. It's like they like to just throw them into sentences for a little spice. Don't be tempted to do this. That is the spice of the devil!

Nine times out of ten, you don't need it at all. And the few times you feel you do, you could probably rewrite the sentence without changing the meaning. You'll probably also make the sentence better. Trust me on this.

Questions?

*Thanks to Minveradamama who informed me on twitter that I used "flaunt" when I meant "flout." Never let it be said I don't take edits well.

So my best friend popped up on IM this morning and the following conversation occurred.

Z: have you ever heard of this horse bird muffin?

J Um no. But I've heard of a picaken—two pies baked into a cake.

Z hahaha ok. first of all — two pies baked into a cake sounds disgusting

J Right?

Z totally! second of all — horse bird muffin is game regarding your facial features

According to Z, all people's faces can be described using some combination of horse, bird or muffin. We decided she is a bird, but a sexy bird instead of a bird of prey. She's like a cardinal or a peacock. We also decided I am a muffin. I'm not sure whether this is something I should brag about. Because on the one hand, who doesn't love a delicious muffin? But on the other hand–"muffin face" isn't exactly a sexy description, is it?

Anyway, I decided Horse, Bird, Muffin needed some googling. Turns out it's not just a demeaning way to describe people's faces. It's also a personality test. It goes something like this:

Horses are dependable, hard workers who take orders well.

Birds are creative but flighty and hard to control.

Muffins do the least amount of work possible.

According to the prevailing stereotype, most writers would fit in the bird category. We have a bit of reputation for having our heads in the clouds, puffing out our plumage and strutting our ideas around, and demanding that our bird baths be filled with either bourbon or cocaine to dull the pain of being such a tortured artiste.

Alternately, we're famous for lazing about on fainting couches or staring into the middle distance while we "brainstorm." This usually involves copious baked goods and/or methamphetamines.

But laying about like people in a Fiona Apple video or sitting in cafes expounding on the importance of narrative structure and how how we're going to write an existentialist novel about the plight of the modern mime doesn't get the books written. For that, we have to shape-shift into a horse. You might think it's easier to type with a beak than a hoof, but you'd be wrong. Birds don't want to sit at their computers all day plodding through the work of laying words on the page. They want to fly around. And muffins just lay there, useless.

Yet, all three of these states must exist to get a work done. Often simultaneously. And so I decided that the horse, bird, muffin analogy doesn't quite work for writers (because we're special, right?). Instead, I humbly submit to you that to be a writer, you must have a different archetypal personality altogether.



You have to be a mother effin PEGASUS.

A pegasus who only occasionally indulges in muffins.

Think about it: In order to write you must be simultaneously creative and hard working. You must also allow your subconscious time to reboot, which is where the occasional muffin comes in. I say occasional because no self-respecting Pegasus would allow an unsightly muffin top to mar their sexy silhouette.

Pegasus doesn't allow writer's block to stand in his way. He stomps it with his hooves of doom and flies over the wreckage . Pegasus doesn't tremble as the deadline nears. She puts her head down and shoots word lightning from her hooves!

I really have no idea how any of this will help you, exactly. Except maybe you could print out that sweet picture of Pegasus and hang it over your computer screen. That way when you get a craving for muffins or you start to take yourself too seriously, you can look at Pegasus and think, "No! Today I'll spread my wings and let the world hear my triumphant whinny!"

Or you could, you know, watch reality TV.

Also, you'll be relieved to know that if you google "Pegasus with muffins," the internet will offer up gems like this.